I met a girl once. Her name was... Well her name wasn’t really that important; I never called her by it anyway. I always gave people nicknames when I liked them. Names that were just for me and them. I guess that was the way I always showed affection. I had a name for this girl and she hated it and I kind of liked that she hated it, not least for the fact that it was a fun way to bond and flirt.
We met in the Summer, which I’ve always thought is the perfect time to meet a pretty, blonde girl and, although it wasn’t long ago, it felt like we’d known each other for a long time. She was similar to me in that she warmed to people really quickly. She loved hugs and she was great at them. One of the most endearing traits that anyone can have is the ability to make you feel safe in an embrace. She had this in spades. There was something about the way she held me when I put my arms around her that just made me feel warm. Like I could stand in a snow-storm without a coat if she just put her arms around my waist in that way that she did. And when she kissed me, the noise seemed to quieten and the world almost fell away… But then she did too. Her arms collapsed from my back and the smile fell from my face. And a question formed in the back of my mind. How did this story end? I struggled to remember. But though it seemed, on some level, all too clear, I couldn’t remember. I’d never heard this one before.
Monday, February 15, 2010
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